


Promises

by fish_wifey



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Bittersweet, Cute, Kageyama in Kita-ichi era is SO cute, Kitagawa Daiichi era, Love Confessions, M/M, Meeting Again, Unrequited Crush, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 16:08:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6246670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fish_wifey/pseuds/fish_wifey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kageyama decides to confess his crush on Iwaizumi on the most appropriate day, but because of the words of the same guy, he loses hope.</p><p>When Iwaizumi gets a confession however, things don't go as well as planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promises

**Author's Note:**

> Y-yo Sofia :'D have another fic that went away from me and didn't really have any White day in it :'DDDD oh good lord, I love to make things bittersweet between them, somehow?? Who would have known. This whole Iwakage thing has me writing things I usually never go for ;A; ((god am I trying for semi-happy endings thoooughhh)). Also, Kageyama is one of the (many, many) characters I absolutely adoreeeeeee. And I always like to somehow hurt my faves a little ;;
> 
> The main problem is that all fics have this point where Iwaizumi and Kageyama's relationship could have become something more, if Kageyama would have gone to Aobajousai and make it work. NONETHELESS, I hope Sofia (and any other iwakage fan) likes this even a little bit ;;
> 
> ANYWAY!!! Have super cute Kageyama and struggling Iwaizumi :DDD

Tobio presses his lips together, his eyes wide in anticipation. Though his heart beats out of control, he has perfect command over his fingers. As gently as holding a lamb, he lifts the silver baking-form off his creation. It’s cold to the touch from being in the fridge all night. Nonetheless, Tobio doesn’t mind the biting touch in his fingers much, as an odd sensation of warmth runs through them. The form has done its trick, and now it’s up to Tobio to give it the finishing touch.

He takes the red glaze and starts to write, double-checking every word of the English page he plastered on eye-level to the kitchen cabinet in front of him. Like his tosses, Tobio craves perfection, without even a minor, hairline-thin mistake to be seen. Looks are everything, and nothing less than perfection would do. There was no way Tobio would walk to school with a half-assed, half-baked, and half-good chocolate heart, after all. Previously he had wanted to put on blue lettering, but the recipe for that was a little tricky… So he chose red, for love. It’s for a special day after all, the red writing gives him some sort of moody spirit to go through with today’s plan of action. 

“Yosh…” He whispers once he’s done writing across the chocolate heart that’s bigger than his head. Tobio wonders if he should write the name of his crush on top of it too, then decides against it. 

Iwaizumi was a headstrong man, who took things as they came, and wouldn’t back down from a challenge. Hoping on even ⅕ of that power, Tobio decided to confess face to face, and not chicken out. After all, he has waited months for the right moment, and what timing would be better than this evening after practice? Good vibes, the nice smell from the gym in their minds, and a snack for afterwards. Tobio had it all figured out, the date marked in red as ‘D-day’ chosen long before.

Come what may, he would tell Iwaizumi how he felt.

*~*~*

The world was a little crazy today. Hajime couldn’t understand the ruckus, and as a third year at Kitagawa Daiichi (aka being in the same year and in the same school as Oikawa), he could do nothing but hope the day would end soon. Even at practice, the groups of fans gather to watch them play, and by ‘them’ Hajime meant Oikawa and his ego. At least he didn’t play worse when a lot of attention was given to him.

But bringing the massive of load of Valentine’s chocolate to practice had struck the wrong cord in other people aside of Hajime. The only one who had shown zero reaction to it all was Kageyama. The kid was as volleyball crazy as they come, and only had eyes for the current opponent. Hajime is a good head taller than the kid of many talents, and stares him down while the net hangs tight between them.

Across the court in the second team, Kageyama stares right back without a sense of fright. The eyes of the second year setter are wide, his hands calm at his side. The same hands not yet grown to full power, hands often seen holding a volleyball close to his heart. Watching the little runt, Hajime wonders what will happen to those soft round eyes when he and Oikawa graduate. When Kageyama can rise up as setter, and finally secure himself the regular position. No matter how much his talent grows with every practice, Kageyama is second to only one.

And as the time goes by, Hajime believes this particular one needs an ass-kicking.

“Sheesh, Oikawa. Can you serve the ball already!?” Hajime belows behind him, anger rising when the shithead takes his time waving to the girls behind them, instead of getting on with practice. Their team leads in their second set 17:9, if only because the third years on Kageyama’s courtside aren’t fast enough. Kindaichi, in the same year as Kageyama, has become one of the few whose arm’s length is good enough to even touch the ball. It’s harsh, really, to have so much talent but no ground to utilize it. 

“Don’t be so upset, Iwa-chan. Your time will come, too.” Oikawa smiles ahead, his voice making a vein pop dangerously in Hajime’s forehead. If the coaches would give him the go, he’d attack him and serve the ball himself. After a while, Oikawa finally deigns himself ready to resume playing, and serves.

The ball is far, far out; a chorus of girlish ‘ooh’s fill the gym, and Hajime can practically see Oikawa’s tongue sticking out, hand rubbing his messy head. Hajime groans to the heavens of the gym’s bright ceiling. He hates this day, when even more admirers come to practice, because of this stupid Hallmark-organized ‘tradition’. It’s unbearable, and Hajime won’t take it a second longer. His patience has maxed out. Nothing sounds better than spiking, and he wants to have it hit Oikawa’s face above everything else. An idea lights up, and he raises his hand, making eye contact with their coach.

“Member change.”

“Huh, change with whom?” Oikawa pipes up, protesting. Hajime doesn’t wait for the ‘okay’; it’s an everyday in-team practice match for crying out loud. He walks under the net, standing close to Kageyama.

“Suzuki, you take my position.”

“But-” Suzuki starts, looking at the coach, then to Hajime. Hajime pays no attention to either, and puts his hand on Kageyama’s shoulder.

“I’m counting on you. Toss to me whenever you deem it necessary, Kageyama. Consider it especially when Oikawa is up to block.” Grinning, Hajime ignores Oikawa’s distant squawk, and gives his new team low fives. He calls out to Kindaichi for a good serve, and then faces forward. Somewhere behind the first team, chocolate and flowers multiply, and loud ‘Good luck!’ wishes are being yelled from the side. 

Hajime dislikes the whole lot of it.

Kageyama seems to notice, too. After Hajime scores three points in a row (sadly missing Oikawa’s face every damn time), the little first year asks for his attention during a timeout. They’re standing next to the court hydrating themselves and wiping sweat of their brows, when Kageyama comes to stand in front of Hajime. Gulping down half his bottle, Hajime’s newly-acquired patience waits for the young setter to speak up. 

“Iwaizumi-san… are you bothered by the, uh, Valentine's stuff?” The question is unnecessary low spoken, as Kageyama’s eyes staring to where Hajime’s shoes are at. Hajime gives it a moment of thought, than gazes at the Oikawa specific pile. Kageyama is crazy observant, although his communication isn’t always this clear. 

“I don’t dislike the things themselves, as it is. No. It’s the whole… shit wrapped around it.”

“The ‘be my Valentine’... shit?” Kageyama stumbles over the curse as he mimics Hajime using it, which is kinda cute.

“Yeah. You might as well confess your love the day before or the day after, it shouldn’t matter. And all these girls spending so much money and time and hard work. For what? Oikawa gives away most of his stuff, after boasting all day and all night how much he’s gotten. Can’t finish eating any of it. Such a waste.” Hajime finishes then drinks the rest of his water while watching Kageyama through one eye. 

Kageyama shrinks, as if he had added something to the pile too and now felt ashamed of it. Hajime sincerely hopes that he didn’t. Things weren’t good between the two setters, and it would crush Hajime’s heart to see Kageyama hurt in any sort of way. There have been rumours in the team, which Hajime had to either shut up or diffuse; people were saying that Kageyama had a crush on someone in their club, but the name never came to Hajime’s ears. 

“So today, is no good for love confessions… or any sort of attraction, in your point of view, Iwaizumi-san?”

“Damn straight. I would loathe to receive anything, if I am honest. Not when that guy over there has 10 times more shit to carry than usual.” Hajime finishes, then puts the emptied bottle back in its place, ready to go back and battle on the court again. Kageyama’s silence irks him, and he clasps his hand on top of the smaller frame, trying to imbue some confidence into him. “C’mon, Kageyama. I want to try and hit your insane quicks today!”

He can’t explain why, but watching insecurity leave Kageyama’s being, replaced by joy and pure love for volleyball, means a lot to Hajime. When their team stands on the court, he feels pride rush from his toes to his stomach, all the way across his shoulders and down to his fingertips. Even if takes until the end of the set, he wants to hit Kageyama’s toss and brighten his day. Maybe he shouldn’t try to hit Oikawa’s face, as it would mean they would have to take their point back in an apology. Kageyama deserves a legitimate point for understanding Hajime’s principles, and for giving his all with every move.

When he hits the set point win off Kageyama’s perfect, super quick, Hajime feels a 120% of his ability. After celebrating the point by himself, he goes over to Kageyama, takes him in a one-armed hug, and whispers ‘Well done’ into the silky hair. It’s just a thing for his kouhai to be unable to respond to him over things like this. Hajime can’t help himself ruffling the straight hair, letting his palm rest on top of the crown of Kageyama’s head.

“Good toss, Kageyama.” 

It doesn’t matter to him afterwards, to watch Oikawa being troubled by the vast amount of gifts, or hearing him boast about the tastiness and that he might share with Hajime. After training ends, Hajime feels really good, even without a single piece of Valentine’s chocolate given to him.

*~*~*

It’s 24 hours later, a Friday afternoon of freedom. Unlike every other Friday, where Hajime would ditch Oikawa if he would linger somewhere and not be able to keep up on the way to the store, Hajime finds himself still at school. It’s weird standing here, present in hand, after being asked by Kageyama to stay behind. It was even more unusual for Hajime to consider the request, and not go for his favourite treat to be bought in the store for little pocket money. On Fridays, Hajime would rush out of school and towards this little store down the road, which would offer a special price on his favourite ice cream.

“I really like you, Iwaizumi-san.” 

Instead, he felt warmth burn his neck. His eyes look down to where the words ‘Happy Valentine’s day’ had been visibly picked off the chocolate heart. It had left small, but readable, indents. On the bottom it had read ‘please consider to be my Valentine today’, which made a rush of emotions run through Hajime’s system. It feels like jumping for a decoy hit, which could have felt really good if only he’d been the one to hit it. Instead, he looks down to the first homemade chocolate he’s ever received, neatly wrapped in tinfoil. Across it in an x-wrapping style, it’s tied together by blue and white ribbons, the Kita-ichi colours. It was prettier than the things Oikawa has gotten, larger too. Even though the dents of missing words made it look picked upon.

Still, Oikawa has gotten Valentine’s chocolate from a hoard of girls. Hajime received his from a teammate. The same kid who hadn’t looked at Hajime for a whole minute now, and didn’t seem eager to show his face anytime soon. It's hard to decide if this is a good thing or not. When Kageyama had looked at him earlier, there had been a hint of blushing at the top of his cheekbones. Above the colouring were blue eyes, too shy to meet Hajime’s. Kageyama had come looking confident, but as soon as Hajime asked what was up, he started to tremble, stammer, talking about the sunny weather mid-February. 

In contrast, the confession had been clear, unwavering, and earnest. Now he’s hiding, and Hajime, in a fight between the mind, the matter, and the heart, doesn’t know how to feel about any that.

The sunlight doesn’t filter through the silky, raven dark hair. It doesn’t pierce through the locks like it does the trees nearby. Through their branches, specks of sunlight fall upon their scene, in which Hajime feels his legs rooted to the ground, and his throat dried out. He watches the unmoving person in his bow, arms tight to his sides, and the hands that are incredible in tossing slightly behind him. It’s impossible to see through the bangs, to have a look at the face turned to the ground outside the gymnasium. 

“I apologize.” Kageyama tells the dirt patch below, as it blends in with the patches of sunrays made by the sun and the trees. A bee buzzes around a nearby flower. He hasn’t looked up to Hajime after saying what he said and bowing, and Kageyama keeps his bow perfect, motionless. As if the tiniest toe out of line would make Hajime devour him right then and there; as if facing him once more after the confession would obliterate him from existence. 

“...For what?” Hajime asks, his mind still playing catch up to what Kageyama said a few minutes earlier. The voice hadn’t been small, and the young face seemed exceptionally earnest and stern today. Kageyama was 13 years old, and it takes a lot of courage to do what he just did. It’s hard to find the right words on his own, sprung like this. He’s been confessed to twice before by girls from another class, and each time he felt too embarrassed to accept, to even try and think. Hajime rubs the back of his head, eyeing the tree to his right as if it has all the wise answers. As a kid he used to climb every tree high enough for his adventurous streak to come alive. To his left is the gym, which feels even more as home. And yet, here he stands, between both places, unable to say a single sensible thing to his kouhai.

It’s the 15th of February and Kageyama had given Hajime homemade chocolate, confessing his crush. If the situation wasn’t a little bit surreal, Hajime would have praised Kageyama for following his advice and acting accordingly. Should he have known, yesterday? This whole time he had thought Kageyama was interested in someone else, but all this time, it had been focussed on Hajime himself. 

Instead of standing up, Kageyama just bows his head lower, shaking his head as if he were having trouble answering Hajime’s question. Patience is key, and Hajime puts the chocolate heart on a nearby bench before it melts in his warm hand. He repeats his question, in high hopes that it sounds softer than before. 

“Hey, Kageyama. What’s the apology for?”

“Everything, Iwaizumi-san!” His head shoots up, redness spreading to his cheeks. “For being forward. For not saying anything yesterday. For not saying anything sooner. For saying anything at all.” 

Kageyama balls his fists next to his legs, and Hajime can see the hurt hiding behind a forced, smiling facade. He wishes he could close the distance between them, take the hands and say it’s alright. Somewhere not all too deep down, Hajime has always known that it would be alright. He’d seen it coming, somehow, one of his juniors saying that they like him. He’d never thought he’d receive such a deep-felt, cocksure, and sweet confession. There’s a force of attraction which has him lean forward, his throat dry, as he wants nothing more than to make Kageyama look at him in the eyes and say it once more, to show it, to prove it.

But Hajime is rooted to the sunray speckled grounds beneath him, and he can’t make promises he’s not able to keep. Kageyama is a sweet kid, but that’s just it. He is a child, and this is a crush born from admiration, maybe. Hajime has a tough time dealing with Oikawa’s issues as they are right now. They go off to high school soon, where Kageyama won’t follow until a year and two months later. This whole situation is fucked up because it’s the worst possible timing, but he can’t fault Kageyama for not saying anything earlier. There’s nothing Hajime can do to make it better, and his only possible solution is to make it worse.

“Sorry, Kageyama. I really am. Just. Shit. I can’t accept your feelings.”

Kageyama smiles, nodding. At last, he stands up straight again. “As expected. I didn’t- didn’t think. Yeah.” He swallows, his Adam’s apple doing the slowest bop down. It pulls at Hajime’s heartstrings, like a melody he shouldn’t listen to, or else he’d succumb to the promise of something he shouldn’t be wanting to have. Kageyama takes a few steps back, seemingly distraught.

“Senpai could you- I am in no position to ask but. Would you mind keeping silent about- about me? About, what I-’

“Kageyama, don’t. There’s nothing wrong with it, you hear me? I wouldn’t dream of telling anyone. Not because I am ashamed, but because it doesn’t concern anyone but you and me.” Hajime wants to put his hand on Kageyama’s shoulders, like he’s done so many other times when they were on the court. Outside of the gym, his arms feel like led. He’s afraid that if he touches Kageyama, he’d burn his fingers.

Shakingly, Kageyama nods, the will to speak leaving his body. He takes a few steps back, then turns away and walks briskly from the path, into the trees and bushes, to a place Hajime has no knowledge off. All he’s left to do is listening to the leaves rustle, until all sound matches the void in his heart. 

The excitement of earlier is now razed to the ground below his unsteady feet.

*~*~*

Tobio sits on his bed, cross-legged. His elbow placed in the angle of one knee, while the connecting hand to it touch his shoulder, fingers crossing over the back. Lips press against his pulse, while he keeps his eyes shut tight. Reality is something for another day, and in this bed, where he has dreamt up eighteen different scenarios, being left with the worst case, most likely one, still hurts a ton.

Opening his mouth against the cold of his flesh, he continues whispering a mantra. There are so many things he has to work on. He’s co-captain, soon, and cannot allow himself to stay still at today. There’s all weekends to review their signs, to make changes where necessary. Tobio cannot copy Oikawa’s signs at all, and the need to create a new, smarter system bristles under his fingers. In his head he creates attack formations, and runs simulations in his head with all sorts of players.

All the while the mantra continues. There are a hundred things he has to become better in, and there’s no time to think of warm afternoons and cold realities. It’s still February 15th for another half hour, and Tobio racks his brain. Just six more weeks. Then Iwaizumi is gone, off to a new school, a new life. They don’t have to bother. There’s only the farewell match between the 1st and 2nd years versus the 3rd years, and Tobio has one more chance to show his abilities off and come closer to be the equal, if not the successor, to Oikawa’s strength.

He sinks in deeper, eyes shutting tighter against the harsh bedroom light. The scenes of the afternoon keep coming back, all these words he knew he’d hear but didn’t _want_.

There is one thing he has to change, and it’s getting rid of this crush. Iwaizumi’s rejection was the kindest possible, and it will help in Tobio’s development. Now that he’s unburdened, the position he yearns for most is the only thing that should matter to him. Utilizing all the players should be his focus, and Iwaizumi no longer counts as one of them. 

Six more weeks, and Tobio doesn’t know if he should be happy to be free of this pain, or if he longs for more, as long as he can see Iwaizumi. The tears running down his arm have a deciding say as to where the balance tips.

He never wanted to fall in love. Tobio had no time for such distractions, and he’d been distracted too much already. Hell, if he’d known how much it would hurt, he would have never have let himself drown in daydreams and sweet nightmares of wet kisses and cozy warm hugs. Nightmares they had been, waking him up at night, cold sweat and a hot burning need. His body wasn’t ready for the rest, and now, his body couldn’t handle the pain that wrecked him in trembles, leaving him unable to breathe.

“React faster, use fingertips better, file your nails everyday, take care of your shoelaces, make all the formations before the new first years arrive.” He mutters to himself, inhaling the salty taste from his arm. Tobio has to become stronger, faster, leaner, better. One day he would stand on the same court as Iwaizumi again, and he’d need every ounce of training to be worthy of it. 

One day.

*~*~*

It’s graduation day. Hajime talks to people he won’t see everyday from here on out. For most, Aobajousai is the closest choice, and most of the volleyball team will venture there, too. But Hajime also has buddies on the soccer and baseball teams, and each of them would go to another powerhouse school more tailored to their needs. As promised, Hajime hadn’t talked to anyone to what happened five weeks prior, since he last talked to Kageyama. 

Like that day, there’s a dark blue shadow hiding between branches and specs of sunrays dropped to the ground. Hajime sighs, walking away from where the ceremony was held, and meets Kageyama under the trees. The first bloom of the cherry blossom won’t hit Miyagi until the first week of April, and Hajime is kind of glad for it, to subdue the romantic moment. Kageyama seems mature than before already, the new co-captain title and regular setter position already making him walk with more confidence.

On the bitter side, Hajime wonders if being rejected has anything to do with becoming an adult faster. 

“Hey,” He starts, playing around with the tube holding his middle school degree. Kageyama bows, congratulates him. Hajime nods, then mentions the unmentionable. “I tried your chocolate, by the way. Finished the whole thing in one week.”

Of course it turns out to be the wrong thing to say. Kageyama stares at the ground, the same hurt as before flittering across his features. None of it feels right to Hajime. There’s so many things he’s meant to do, should feel, could try. It all slams down when Kageyama moves away from him. All of it thunders through his chest, jolts his arms, as he reaches out to keep Kageyama where he is, his graduation degrees rolls to the nearest tree.

Hajime leans forward as well as pulling a surprised Kageyama to him, and his lips meet Kageyama’s in an awkward moment. He’s never kissed someone, and feel as stupid as in his childhood, when he couldn’t receive. Emotions soaring, his hands grasp Kageyama’s arms tighter, blabbering out the words he’s kept inside his head for more than a month.

“I’m sorry. It’s just the worst possible timing. I’m sincerely sorry, Kageyama.” He looks up to him, feeling the same red colouring on his entire being as it spreads across Kageyama’s high cheek bones. The latter’s nods are simple, understanding, non-confronting. The smallest of smiles spreads insecurely on Kageyama’s mouth, as if he’s not allowed to be happy, unable to keep it any longer either. He glances at Hajime, and holds his gaze.

“Would you mind calling… me by my first name once, Iwaizumi-san?” 

Hajime lets go of Kageyama’s arms, smiling. “Heh, that’s the least I can do, Tobio.” Having an idea, Hajime then reaches to the second button of his uniform, and rips it clean off under Tobio’s surprised protest.

“Here, have this.” 

“But, Iwaizumi-san, others might- there might be girls who-”

“No one else confessed to me in the past two months, did they now? You should have it. Hurry up and come to Aobajousai soon, alright?” Hajime presses the button into Kageyama’s hand, then holds his shoulder for what would be the last time in a long time. “I’ll be waiting for you, Tobio.”

Kageyama jumps up, yelling, “Thank you!” before grasping the button tightly in his hand and running off. 

*~*~*

When they stood on the same court again, it wasn’t as Hajime had imagined. Kageyama looked sharper than ever, growing into harder angles and more mature features. Dark blue eyes had been ice, and there had been the net between them, once more.

Only that practice match had been between their schools. The loss of that day boils up in Hajime’s stomach as he watches Kageyama from afar today in the Sendai stadium, seeing only small patches of light skin coming between the mass of black and the tiniest speck of orange. His focus is razor-sharp, and Hajime has second thoughts of saying hello. Back then, it had been impossible. Kindaichi had to be tamed, and Kageyama had his hands full with his own team. They hadn’t talked for such a long time, and unlike close friends, they didn’t know how to have a conversation anymore. Hajime blames himself, still, for the things he said, the bonds he had cut.

And he blames Kageyama, for the unspoken promise he hadn’t kept.

Not a single week had gone by without thinking of Kageyama at least once in the past few years. Hajime has read the news of Kita-ichi’s loss, Kageyama’s broken crown. He couldn’t believe half of the things said and written about him Couldn’t handle Kindaichi in the first week, and his shit-talking of happiness that he’s gotten away from Kageyama at last. It was impossible to believe. The sweet kid he’d once known, grown up to be a tyrant. 

But here where the windows of Sendai stadium let in natural light, Kageyama looks nothing like the past. Gone was the soft round face. The twinkling eyes would only be chanced upon in a match. His shoulders didn’t hunch in defeat and his head was actually held high, pride oozing from him in subdued waves. His body had transformed, grown taller, slimmer, a few muscles built neatly under his tan skin. The side view of Kageyama creates the illusion of a sharp knife, ready to slice anyone in two who crosses him the wrong way. 

Either Hajime was into pain, or he thought himself deserving of such for what he’d done in his last stage at Kitaichi. Whatever this nameless want was, it makes Hajime move his feet forward, brisk and unfaltering, as he calls out Kageyama’s name to get his attention.

Nightblue eyes hold only a second of contempt before they show recognition and respect, and Kageyama immediately bows to greet his former teammate and senpai. 

“Yo, Kageyama.” 

“It’s been a long time, Iwaizumi-san.”

They smile to each other as if they weren’t wearing a different uniform.

**Author's Note:**

> I knooowww I could have gone a little further here :'D I actually think that I am going to try and write a second chapter, one day?? I actually want them to get together in this one, somehow ;;


End file.
